Interlude: Steven Universe
by Chibi Zephyr
Summary: Based loosely on Zach Callison's song Interlude IV. Steven is about to go on his first official date with Connie when something sets him off. Even though the kid's dead, he's still seeing red. A shell of his form that his innocence shed. One-shot. SU Future.


_This is based loosely off of Zach Callison's song "Interlude IV." The link to the song is at the end of the story._

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The bouquet of pale blue flowers in his hand dropped to the ground as he stared at the scene in front of him. They had planned this for weeks, just him and her: their first official date. But there she was, standing with another boy, giggling as he placed his hand on her cheek. They were at the end of the pier as the sun was slowly setting.

The exact spot Connie told Steven to meet her.

Steven didn't know him. He just knew he was taller than he was, had stubble on his pointed chin, tone to his darker body and dark eyes. Everything he wasn't.

So that's what Connie really wanted.

His hand closed into a painful fist as he took a step toward the scene, but stopped dead in his tracks when the unknown man pulled Connie forward and leaned in for a kiss.

He couldn't take it anymore. Steven turned on his heel and bolted away. His foot crashed down on the boutique, cracked the flower stems and crushed the petals.

If he had stayed, he would have seen Connie shove the other boy away with a laugh. He would have seen both of them doubling over and sharing a joke he wasn't privy to. If he had approached them, he would have heard the older boy teasing her about going on her first date with the boy she's loved since she was 13. He would have known that he was just there to embarrass Connie and was making a kissy face at her with no intention of actually kissing her.

He would have known he was her cousin; someone sent by her parents to spy on the date.

But Steven didn't stay. The world around him faded into a blurred rush as the pink hue overtook his body. Time stood still, but his emotions raged on around him. How could she? She was the one who asked him there. She was the one who used the word "date." She was the one who wanted to be alone with him.

But she brought another boy.

Was that initial text even meant for Steven? Or was he just a fool to think his childhood friend shared the same feelings toward him as he did her?

The ache in his chest grew until it felt like his heart would implode. He could feel it splinter into pieces in his chest; the only reason he knew it was still intact was due to its heavy thuds. His lungs constricted as it became harder and harder to breathe. His eyes burned with tears he refused to let fall.

Steven kept seeing her laughing and blushing, kept seeing the unknown man lean in for a kiss.

And it hurt.

It was a pain he never knew before. Being attacked by Jasper was nothing compared to this. Being hit and dangled over the edge of an injector by Spinel was child's play. Being forced into Pink Diamond's role and having his gem removed couldn't hold a flame to this type of ache.

He made it to the steps of his house and raced inside, seeing the gems stuck in place on the couch.

No, he thought, I need to be alone. I can't face them right now. They were all so excited about this.

The Temple's door glowed in response to his silent plea. It opened quickly and he rushed inside. The gems didn't notice a thing.

In the solidarity of his mother's room, he collapsed to his knees and let out a pained wail. He clutched his hair and tears began to fall, streaking down his face.

"Stupid!" he yelled to no one. "I'm so stupid."

Why would she ever like someone like him? He was nothing compared to who he once was. He once brought her to space and saved the galaxy with her. Now though? He was building a life without her. He stopped running Little Home-School and she started applying for higher education. He stopped texting her when he ran out of things to say while she checked in on a near-weekly basis.

He didn't even know what he wanted, so why would she want him?

He looked up, ignoring how his vision blurred through the tears, how his hands shook and how hitched his breath was. The image of him and her flashed in front of him again.

"No," he said. "I don't want to see it!"

The room thought he did though. It formed a perfect image of the end of the pier. A blushing Connie, wearing a white blouse and jeans, and the unknown model in a leather jacket. The man pulled Connie close to him again.

"No!" Steven yelled. "Stop it!"

The room shook and the man turned as Connie shouted out in warning. Out of nowhere, one of the tall lamp posts near them fell over and crushed the boy, flat. Steven reached out to the boy, but he didn't move. He was frozen in fear and in shock.

He could heal him if he could just move.

But this wasn't real. He didn't need to move. His arm fell to his side.

The cloud-Connie ran over to the boy and held him in her arms, her face contorted in despair as she wailed.

"Room, no! I don't want this!" Steven yelled, his hand covering his mouth at the scene.

A cold laugh came from behind him. He spun around and faced a younger Connie, in a white dress, with a goading expression.

"Tell the truth," she told him. Her cold voice brought back memories Steven had long since repressed. The day he and Connie had entered his mom's room to recreate their favorite story. This same version of Connie forced him to admit he liked the ending of the book she gave him. So why was she here now?

"You like seeing him that way," she said, her eyes fixed emotionlessly on the scene behind Steven. "Admit it."

"No," Steven said, the pink hue finally leaving his body as the shock of everything overcame his heartbreak and anger. He stood and faced her, trying to force a look of confident resolve onto his face. "No!"

The 13-year-old version of Connie sighed and stepped over to him. "You know that's not the truth. Did you really kill him, though? Or was it someone else?"

"What?" Steven turned and looked back at the scene. He took a full step back, his entire body freezing with shock. The boy wasn't the unknown male anymore. It was him. Steven. Laying in Connie's arms. Bloodied. Motionless.

And the cloud Connie didn't even look sad. She just looked vacant. Like she barely knew the boy she was holding.

His heart pounded in his chest. It sounded like a clock, ticking down to his final moments.

"Do you get it now?" the younger Connie said, almost gently, as she stepped beside him. "You're finally free of her. Welcome home. The world is yours now."

"No, it isn't," Steven said, shaking his head. As he took in the scene, a warmth grew from his stomach and bubbled inside him. A warmth he only knew as rage; rage that far outgrew when Bluebird attacked his dad or when he learned his mother permanently cracked Pink Pearl.

Nothing was his anymore. Not Little Home-School. Not the gems. Not Connie. Everything he used to be, was as dead as the boy in front of him.

The younger Connie shrugged and pointed behind her shoulder. "Accept it and face them."

"No," Steven said, his breath now shallow. "This isn't over."

"What?"

He pointed to the scene in front of him. The dead boy flashed between the unknown man and Steven's body, flicking as if glitched. "Even though the kids' dead, I'm still seeing red. I'm just a shell of his form that his innocence shed."

The boy was back to being Steven for a brief moment, but it was kid Steven. Small and lifeless as it stared unseeingly at the pink clouded sky.

"He lived a good life and he gave it to you," younger Connie pointed out. "If it weren't for him, you wouldn't have saved the galaxy. If it weren't for him, you would never have met me. And now you know the truth. Now you know that childhood romances don't last. She doesn't hold any power. That part of you is as dead as your mother."

Steven balked at this, turning to face her and standing tall, his fists clenched. He wanted to lash out at her for saying that. He wanted to, but he restrained himself still.

But what he did in here didn't matter, he slowly realized. Nothing here was real. No one would know. No one could blame themselves, judge him, give him high and mighty advice or act overly mature. It was just him and his own manifestations.

Nothing here mattered.

"Oh, is that right?" he hissed. "You know it's not true," he continued. He pointed at the scene in front of them. "Look at him."

The younger Connie crossed her arms and pursed her lips at the offensive tone, but stayed silent. She glanced over to the scene and took in younger Steven's broken body.

She turned back to face Steven, his face screwed up in anger and breaths in short pants. But anger wasn't the dominant emotion in Steven's eyes. It was pain. Heartbreak. Envy. Loss.

"She still holds the power," Steven continued. He confirmed everything his manifestation already knew, of course. But he needed to say it. Everything he kept inside of him was bursting forward; his jar of emotions shattered the moment this heart did.

"After years of tears and confronting our fears, it's dead on the record for the whole world to hear," Steven said, his eyes fixated on the false scene of Connie holding his dead younger self. "Everyone thought we'd get together, but she destroyed that dream. They'll think it was me, but Connie, I know it was you."

"I saved him!" the younger Connie shouted. She pulled at Steven's arm so he would face her. "I was your only human friend for how long?! I helped you understand your powers. I fought for you! I saved you!"

Steven pushed her off and took a few steps from her. He shook his head angrily, unable to be reasoned with as the pain worsened in his chest. If nothing in here mattered, why did it all hurt so much?

"You know that's not true," he whispered, his eyes on his feet. He knew she was still standing behind him, motionless, but he could feel her hands around his throat. He could hardly breathe because of her. Her lips broke his heart and her hands were around his neck to ensure the job was done.

They vowed to always be there for each other. They faced the galaxy together. They promised each other a happily ever after. It was all a god damn lie.

"What do you want from me?" younger Connie asked behind him. Her tone was still cold and uncaring and she crossed her arms. "I'm allowed to live my own life outside of you."

"Oh, look outside yourself!" Steven snapped. He whipped around to face her and she took a step back from the look on his face. It was clear he wanted to face the real Connie, the person she was only pretending to be.

"I won't help you take her down," she said, eyes wide.

Steven's hand clenched into a fist as a new pink aura overtook his body. This one wasn't just a pink tint to his entire being; it was violent and churned in ripples. It lashed out in thin tendrils and sparked.

"Fine," Steven breathed. "I'll do it by myself!" The final part of his sentence was a roar that turned the pink clouds around in dark.

Wind rushed around him and young Connie looked around, panic growing on her face. The clouds beneath hers and Steven's feet were cracking as if made of glass.

Steven didn't even seem to notice the chaos. To him, all that existed was the older Connie, who now stood over his own dead body and stared at him with uncaring eyes. He wanted to lash out at her. Hurt her the way he hurt him.

"You don't need it," the younger Connie told him, her cool bravado long gone now.

"You know that I need it," Steven retorted without a thought. The clouds in the room began to slowly spin into a fervent cyclone as the cracks beneath them began to grow.

"No you don't," the younger Connie cried. "You and her were drifting apart for years. I know you can beat it!" She stepped in front of her older form and held out her arm as if shielding her older self from Steven.

Steven chuckled lowly, the sound reverberated chillingly in the storm. He snapped his fingers and a large floor-to-ceiling length mirror appeared in front of the pair. "Look in the mirror," he told her. Their reflections stared back, but they only had eyes for the older version of Connie. She stood behind them, face just done with the entire situation.

Steven noticed how the younger version of Connie's face morph to match the same expression.

"You're one and the same," Steven said. "And I'm afraid to be near her." His voice stuttered at her name as if he was forcing it out through gritted teeth. "You're worse than my mother."

Younger Connie punched her hand through the mirror and it dissolved in a puff of graying cloud. "I told you years ago to tell her the truth. You never did. You never admitted that you liked her."

"So, I have you to blame for this pain in my chest?" Steven turned on her and shoved her away from him violently. She stumbled back, her hand over her chest.

"NO!" she shouted. She put her arm out again to shield the older version of herself. The older version looked at the scene, shook her head and vanished. All that was left was the broken body of Steven Universe; a reminder of what love did to him, left abandoned and now face down on the pavement.

Love.

He wanted to spit at the word. Love is what hurt Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl when Pink Diamond decided to start a war against herself. Love is what killed his mother and left everyone in the dark. Love is what caused him to feel so alone now that everyone was able to move on. The only way to move on from it was to crush it.

"If you won't stop her, I will," Steven said as he turned to the hidden temple door. "To avenge the lost soul she killed."

"You're filling your heart up with hate," Connie yelled at him, her voice barely audible over the storm that continued to grow around them. "All the same as the kid that you just left face down on the pavement!"

Steven's hand went into his hair as the pain from his chest exploded and expanded to his head. "No," he said, desperate to block out her words. "No, no no! SAVE IT!"

At the outburst, an unseen force burst from the teen and dissipated younger Connie's form. The storm clouds around him absorbed the blast and turned pitch black. The younger Connie reformed, hunched over as if she was in actual pain.

"I'm nothing like him!" he told her. He ripped his hands from his arm and pointed one to her. It shook violently as the pain continued to spread through him, like a fire in his veins. It burned everything. Slowly spreading. Consuming him and his thoughts until it was all he could feel.

"It's time I made my own choices! And I choose this," he hissed before he turned to the door again. Each step he took echoed loudly around the chamber and boomed over the wind.

Younger Connie stood straight, her hand over her arm. She took a step away from him, the wind pushing her bands over her face so Steven could see her eyes.

"You're lost," she said.

Steven didn't even hear her.

She watched the boy slowly take a step after step, muttering lowly to himself.

"Is this what love is really for?" he whispered. He didn't seem to notice the dark pink splotch that grew under his right eye or the way his fingers were contorting into claw-like shapes. "Is this all I get for being yours? The kid behind me in blood and gore?"

He yelled out, two horns sprouting from the top of his head. He still moved to the door, undeterred.

Young Connie didn't try to talk to him. After all, she was a part of him. She knew she couldn't talk him out of this. She knew he needed this. To let go.

"Years put to waste for all I hate," Steven said again, his voice amplified over the raging storm. "They'll all know Steven and Connie's fate."

Spikes tore through his jacket on his back and his feet burst from his shoes, now clawed and gnarled.

"The shows about to start," Steven said as the door appeared in front of him. In the reflection of it, younger Connie saw his eyes. Black with pink diamonds for pupils. "Don't be late."

The door opened. He stepped outside. The room behind him vanished. He was gone.

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_Author's note: That's it! Just a one-shot about the song. I don't necessarily want to continue it, as I have another Corrupt Steven story being published every other day. _

_What did you think? Should I do one more one-shots? Let me know what you'd like to see! _

_Ideally, I would have drawn this or animated it, but I have ZERO drawing talent. So, I wrote it instead. Sorry, not sorry!_

_Song link: www . youtube results?search_query=interlude+iv+zach+callison_


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